scarsofmyown

Well as you can see I have not been around much lately, I had all privileges taken away. I was a bad boy…

Sometimes I wish that I was normal, why is it that I love the blades so much, the release that it gives me, I even love how the scars look. I take pride in how I cut myself. I’m sick and I know it, the best part though, I don’t give a Fuck… This is my life and I am going to live it how I want to. All I have to do is play nice for the rest of the time that I am here in this hell. I know how to play this game, smile, sound remorseful and contrite etc. It’s all just another mask.

My mother came by yesterday and actually looked as if she was sorry that I was here. I don’t know what is going on with her but she told me that she hasn’t touched a drink since she found me and that she has even started a program herself so that way she can stay clean. Hell she even cried and tried to hug me as she left. What type of BS is that? This is another mind fuck she is trying to do on me I just know it. Then again who knows maybe she will come to me next time telling me she found God or some such shit.

My life is a joke and I have yet to hear the punchline…

Man how I wish I was done with this and out of here. So what if I tried to kill myself, it's not like being here is really going to stop me if I want to try again. With that being said I don't want to kill myself again all I want to do now is get on with my life. I guess my life would be ok if there was something or someone in it to make it worth something. Don't get me wrong I am ok with Asylum but sometimes I just wish that I had someone who got me and understood where it was that I was coming from.

Well this post is shit, all i am doing is making myself even more depressed... I'm outta here...

At least that is how I feel, alive... I don't want to be but what choice do I have anymore. Fucking doctors, why can't they just leave me alone and let me die? It would have worked this time, that bitch just came home early for once.

Maybe I should go back a bit and explain what it is that I am talking about. I tried to kill myself over the weekend, figured that it would work out since dear old MOM usually stays out all day getting plastered... This time though she decided to completely screw up the whole damn thing by not getting drunk and coming home early. What the hell, nothing is constant in my life anymore, not even my screw up of a mother. I actually thought that my death would be a wonderful Mother's Day gift since I am such a useless piece of shit anyway. I guess she decided that I should stay around some more so she can cut me down even further.

Now I am being watched, poked, prodded, etc by these damn doctors and Psychologists. They are the reason that I am doing this fucking initernet blog thing. They figure if I write about my feelings etc that I might even start to open up in group and then begin to talk with HER as well. Fucking Quacks... They don't know a damn thing. Well I guess I will go for now and write when I get the urge...